


can't abide romantic notions

by nosecoffee



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Blatant Hurt, F/M, Heartbreak, Hurt, Im very angry, Love, Memories, No real comfort, coda to 2x10, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-02-18 11:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13099332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nosecoffee/pseuds/nosecoffee
Summary: Bart thinks she's become nocturnal. Can't sleep in the darkness, more alive than ever in the darkness, afraid of the light. Light ensures her survival. In the darkness there is no voice in her head begging her to kill the man on the other side of the table.In the darkness she can cry about wanting to kill the only person she's ever really loved.(Bart reflects on returning to Blackwing and on Ken)





	can't abide romantic notions

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "It All Comes Back" from Fun Home
> 
> I have a lot of feelings about Bart going back to Blackwing to keep everyone safer and to be with Ken and then being left alone in a dark room

In her dreams, they never left the Chinese restaurant. In her dreams, they're still there, eating sweet and sour pork, laughing over things that don't matter. In her dreams she's not thinking about killing Dirk Gently the way she was when they were really there. In her dreams she's chewing with her mouth open, and laughing and he's laughing too, and he doesn't call her Marzanna, he calls her Bart, because that's her name, and they're best friends and he'd never betray her and he'd never-

When she wakes up she can't pretend.

She wakes up and she's in the dark. There are no windows in this room. When she was ten years old and came here willingly, there was one window that spanned the width of the room, right near the roof, and she couldn't see out of it unless she was standing with her back to the door. She knew they were at least semi underground, then.

Bart doesn't know if there are no windows here because they're scared she'll leave, or because they're really underground this time and there would be nothing to see.

The lights don't come on in her cell unless she's getting fed or Ken is there. Bart looks forward to the lights coming on, but looks forward to meal times more than Ken. That startles her. She thought she'd always want to see Ken.

She thought she loved him.

Now, she's not so sure.

Most of all, she hates when he leaves. The doors slide together with a neat snick, and then the lights start going out

 _Vmp._ There's only three lights left. _Vmp._ Now there's only one. _Vmp._ Darkness.

Bart thinks she's become nocturnal. Can't sleep in the darkness, more alive than ever in the darkness, afraid of the light. Light ensures her survival. In the darkness there is no voice in her head begging her to kill the man on the other side of the table.

In the darkness she can cry about wanting to kill the only person she's ever really loved. Was that what love was supposed to feel like? Like a thousand knives through her thigh, all at the same time, every time she ever even thought his name?

She never got to ask. Maybe she should've taken the time. Should've grabbed Dirk Gently by his collar and demanded he tell her what love felt like just so she'd know for sure, right now. He'd surely know, all those friends of his.

"'ey." She says, when Ken's rifling through a file, looking for another picture.

("This woman's name is Rachel Grey. Does the universe want her dead?"

"Yeah.")

Ken looks up, obviously not expecting a topic change. She's been here for at least a month, and through these daily visits she's never differed. Maybe he was waiting for her to. Maybe he is genuinely surprised that she'd pipe up. "Yes, Marzanna?"

It's still stings. Like when he pulled the knife out of her leg. It hurt, anyway, but when he pulled it out, it hurt even more. She grits her teeth, pushes the pain back, the pain the universe can't keep her from. "What does love feel like?" She asks him.

He looks even more surprised at this. "Why do you ask?" Ken replies, confused that she'd ever stray. He should've known better by now. She used to think he knew her better than that.

"Just tryna figure out if I ever felt it." And she shrugs, like the idea that what she felt for him wasn't love didn't keep her up crying in the darkness.

"I...don't really know." Ken says, looking a little conflicted, like maybe he was once in love with somebody but forgot that he ever loved them and was only just remembering. Like he forgot how to love them. "I guess, when you love someone, it feels like you'd do anything for that person, like you never want them to leave you. It kinda hurts sometimes, but mostly you just feel warm and good when they're near you."

"Oh." And somehow she feels like she's given him everything. And that frightens her. (It feels like he isn't willing to give any of it back.) "Right."

"Does that answer your question?" He asks.

Bart can do nothing but nod, and lean back in her chair.

Ken smiles, but it's not the same smile from the Chinese restaurant. "Good." He picks up another picture, this one of a man. "This is Dean Patrick. Does the universe want you to kill him?"

The more he leaves her in the dark, the more she regrets walking back inside this building. She came here to be with him, she came here to keep everyone safe. She came here to mourn Panto, the friend she'd made trying not to kill, and avenged by killing hundreds. The more time she spends being gently interrogated by the man she once loved the more this place feels like a prison cell.

The last prison cell she was in didn't feel this lonely.

Ken leaves again, photos tucked into two different folders, looking pleased with himself.

 _Vmp._ Three lights left. _Vmp._ One light left. _Vmp._

Darkness.

Bart carefully gets to her feet and moves away from the table, towards where she knows her bed is. She shuffles slowly across the linoleum floor and bangs her knee into the end of the bed. From there, she feels her way to the covers, peeling them back and sitting down, legs dangling off the edge.

She fiddles with the laces on her shoes, pulling them undone and kicking them off her feet. Next come the socks, tossed in a similar direction to the shoes. She unzips her jumpsuit, pulling it down her torso and letting it hang loosely from her hips.

Bart once dreamed that they'd never been stopped. Bart once dreamed that they kept driving. She killed people and he stayed in the car, with their dog, and they hugged and they laughed and she loved him, and in her dream he loved her and she never wanted to wake up.

And when she woke up, it was dark.

Bart pushes the jumpsuit all the way off of her, kicking it to the floor by the side of her bed. She doesn't want to sleep.

She can do nothing but sleep.

It seems to her that the week they'd met the week they'd spent together, that might've been the happiest she's ever been. That at be because of him; singing when she asked, hugging her back, sitting with her on the bed while she sulked.

She wants Ken back, the real Ken, not the Ken they bargained and bartered with to turn him on her.

She wants the guy to grabbed her hand before she climbed out of the taxi. She wants her friend back.

But that's not how it works. Because he isn't Ken anymore, is he? He's Supervisor Adams, now, isn't he? She lost Ken a long time ago. And she's left with someone else.

Nothing would be soft and reassuring with him anymore. Maybe once upon a time he would've loved her like that. Now, he wouldn't be so kind. With his kiss, the riot starts.

She makes a decision, turning over on top of the bed, disgusted with herself for ever thinking she could keep one thing without ruining it. Without ruining _him_. She makes a decision based on the fact that he isn't Ken anymore.

In the darkness she is Bart. In the light she becomes Marzanna. That's what he wants from her, anyways.

 

**fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment and/or a kudos, they're greatly appreciated, and hmu on Tumblr @nose-coffee.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked this.


End file.
